Kings
by hummingbird202
Summary: Who is deep within the Elvenking's realm? Who is trapped with his mocking smiles and trickery? Thranduil has a new guest in his dungeons...and he has a plan. A plan that involves playing with fire, breaking rules, and crossing lines. It is a dangerous game they play, but they play it well.
1. Chapter 1: A Game

Kings: Part One

The raven-haired self-proclaimed god stood before the king, an arrogant smirk upon his sharp features. The king had had just about enough of him and his trickery, deceit, and mockery. Silently, he appraised the god once again. The god was tall, at least as tall as the king himself who towered over everyone, and lank. Sleek raven hair curved off his head, seemingly like a fir tree. He held himself with the impeccable posture of one used to being watched and a sly arrogant grin rested upon his mouth as his green eyes danced with a clever playfulness. Beneath the veneer of pompous wiliness, simmered the look of a haunted man.

"You still haven't a clue who I am," The Trickster spoke, grinning in a way that made the king uneasy. It was the grin of a madman prepared to do anything to achieve his goal.

"The king's eyes met the trickster's, cool coal grey that glittered with an air of quasi-malevolence against sly, but calculating green eyes. A sneer curled the kings pale lips as he stared down at one whom he believed his lesser. A god indeed! The two beings were at something of a standoff.

"You still underestimate me," Said the King in an icy tone that inadvertently forced a shiver out of the fearless Trickster, "_Loki_." He spoke the Trickster true name with thick emphasis for Loki had deliberately hidden his identity.

Loki, though disturbed by the King's discovery, was not to be visibly thrown off his game, "Oo, congratulations! You know my name! That does not tell you who I am." Loki spoke in a sardonic tone while within his soul he cursed himself for his slip of the tongue as he had spoken with the only person of intelligence in the king's dungeons, Loki.

"A name can reveal a lot of a being," The King hissed gleefully, "And a strange name you have."

The King rose from his throne as silently and gracefully as a cobra rising from its coils. He towered over Loki standing on the dais upon which his throne was situated. The Trickster did his best not to tilt back reflexively under the Elvenking's domineering presence and cold, intimidating, emotion-neutral stare.

"Are you afraid little god?" Thranduil taunted, leaning over Loki as hissed, "You should be."

The Trickster's eyes lit up with a defiant fire as he stared into the Elvenking's eyes. They stood like that, remaining still as statues for one, two, three full minutes. Eventually, Loki let out a low insane chuckle. Thranduil raised a single thick coal grey eyebrow which matched his eye color perfectly.

"I fear nothing!" Loki spat out, his voice shaking and rageful from the furor coursing through him, "I am a god you mewling Elven quim!"

Thranduil smiled without mirth, a mocking smile, "Oh yes, I had nearly forgotten! I have an all powerful god trapped in my dungeons." He let out a sarcastic laugh, "What a god you are! At the mercy of an elven king!"

Loki composed himself swiftly, his anger seemingly melting away while it was left to remain boiling away beneath a surface of sleek indifference. The two held yet another intense bout of staring until Thranduil whipped around, his crimson and silver robes flying in a wide arc behind him. Sinking gracefully into his throne, Thranduil there sat, or rather reclined.

"An elven king who has not the foggiest idea of who he is dealing with," Loki spoke and grinned that maniacal grin once more, "So tell me, King Thranduil, shall we play a game…a battle, if you will…with Loki Laufeyson?"

The Elvenking of the great Mirkwood leaned forward in his towering throne and whispered darkly, "Prepared and waiting."

Thranduil smirked and raised his narrow chin. Finally, the Trickster appraised the Elvenking. A long solid waterfall of silver-white hair cascaded over the tips of his pointed ears and above a pair of thick coal grey brows. A crown of a half circlet of twisted pointed twigs and autumn foliage rested and curved around the back of his head.

"Then let us begin," Loki chuckled maniacally. So began the only game of which Loki's victory was not assured.

_**End Part One**_

_**Hello, **_

_**I hope you enjoyed Pt. 1 of Kings. If you did, please review and follow or favorite! Don't be shy! It feeds the plot bunnies and encourages me to write more!**_

_**Lots of Love H202**_


	2. Chapter 2: War

Kings Part Two: War

Loki paced the wooden floor of his well-sized cell. Even though it was still a cell, it was obviously created for … guests … of import. Despite its size, there was naught but a small, yet comfortable bench for resting and a chamber pot for his other needs. Little did his captors know, like unto them, he was tireless. The raven-haired trickster could spend days with little to no sleep and still hold dominion over his mental facilities, still keep that sly façade in check. The god was well aware he may have to use his sleepless prowess in the weeks to come. He would not, could not, lose this dangerous game he played with the Elven King of Mirkwood. It was like unto the days of old when he battled out a game of Kings with his brother.

The thought of the golden-haired god sent a chilling sour look upon Loki's face. The trickster's thin lips curled into a spiteful sneer on his pale milky face. Faltering but briefly, his steps swiftly resumed their steady confident pace. Of course, such a gnat as Thor could not distract him from his task of trouncing the Thranduil. Although, it was entirely his brother's fault he was in this situation. Once again, the strong even gait faltered, but not for more than a millisecond.

Just then, the chain to Loki's cell door rattled ominously. His piercing green eyed gaze sought the source of the noise with a carnal hunger. The heavy barred door creaked open and a fair elven maid slipped into his cell. Politely, she inclined her fair brow and spoke softly.

"Prince Loki, I have brought you the evening meal," She said, her voice soft and musical.

Loki decided that moment would be excellent to win sympathy from the gentle elves of the realm. Drawing on a painted mask of deceit, he gave the Elven maid what those puny earthlings would have deemed puppy eyes. Large green orbs that glistened damply shimmered convincingly at the maid.

"Many thanks to you, oh fair maiden," Loki said softly, his voice teetering between helpless and seductive purr, "Pray, tell me, sweet, what name could grace one so fair?"

"Aredhel, Prince Loki," She spoke, without meeting his eyes.

As quickly as she had come, the maid scurried out. The cell door slammed behind her, clanging into place. Loki sighed. He had hoped for a better reaction than that. Sitting upon his bench, the trickster propped his elbows onto his knees and put himself deep in thought. He had spoken to Thranduil. He knew the Elven King worked on much the same wavelength as he, else Thranduil wouldn't have accepted his offer of this game. He knew that Thranduil, beneath that tranquil cold mask had a temper like fire and a heart like the ocean. What Loki didn't know, was why, why and how. Why was the Elven King the way he was? How did he become that way. Perhaps the answers were even the same.

Pursing is lips, Loki mulled over the steps of his unfinished plan in his head.

_Step one: Understand your enemy. __**Well, I'm working on it.**_

_Step two: Incur the public's sympathy. __**Also working on that one.**_

_ Step three: …_

His lips curling into an ironic smile, Loki thought, _I do believe my plan needs a bit of construction._

Loki sat in utter silence for a very long time. He waited patiently, as a cobra for a rat. Then it came, the evening summons. A rap echoed around the small chamber, and was swiftly followed by the opening of the door. The same tall fair haired elf that had come to collect him for King Thranduil the last three nights stood in the golden illuminated doorway.

"The Elven King will see you now, prisoner," He spoke.

"I'm aware," Loki said in reply, "You elves are punctual to a tee."

Languidly, taking his time, Loki rose from his hard bench and followed the elf. Steeling and preparing himself for yet another battle of wits, Loki schooled his features into a mask of indifference and willed them to stay as such. Long gone were the days of accidental murmurings and hearts-on-sleeves. This was war. God save the Elven King.

_**Hello Lovelies,**_

_**Here is Pt. 2 of Kings. I hope those who read it enjoy it. Please, please, please *gets on hands and knees* review, follow, like… It means the world to me. If you feel the need to, PM me! But seriously, communicate. It helps advance the plot. **_

_**Love H202**_


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